Sarah the Vampire Slayer
by Lady Grantham
Summary: Cora Crawley gets much more than she had anticipated travelling through California.
1. Chapter 1

Cora had no idea where she going. She didn't even know where she_ was _for that matter – some tiny town in the middle of_ nowhere_, but Robert had insisted upon taking the shortcut. And now they were lost, somewhere in California, and Cora was so angry at her husband she could strangle him with her bare hands. It had been such a stupid fight, but then it was all they seemed to do lately – fight. Everything he said was an annoyance, everything she said was misconstrued and tonight, after six excruciating hours of travel, it had been particularly bad, and she had left the restaurant in a blind and utter rage.

"Menopausal bitch, indeed."

It suddenly occurred to Cora, stopping in the middle of the street, that it was terribly dark and she was standing next to a graveyard. She shivered, bringing her hands up to her arms to generate some warmth, and contemplated going back.

She didn't get the chance.

With a squeak she felt somebody grab her from behind, grasping her arms and handling her as if she was little more than a rag doll, pulling her against a cold, hard body. A hand clapped over Cora's mouth, stifling her scream, and she breathed out slowly, once, twice, and tried to control the petrified pounding of her heart. His breath – she assumed it was a he – was suddenly hot against her neck and Cora nearly cried.

God, she was so _stupid_. Idiot or not, at least she was safe with Robert.

"What's a pretty little thing like you doing here all alone?"

Cora could scarcely move from the grip on her arms, so _abnormally_strong, and she fought the tears that pricked at her eyes at the pain. Struggling would be utterly futile, that much was evident, and Cora knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that she was going to die tonight.

She couldn't help but shiver in repulsion as her assailant's lips brushed the curve of her neck, and almost heaved at the pleasure so explicit in his excited groan. If she was going to die in this goddamn town in the middle of nowhere, she at least wanted it to be quick. Swift and sharp – she could even handle a little pain. But not like this._ Please _not like this.

"s'not often I get lunch as pretty as you."

_Lunch?_

And then teeth sank into her neck and it was all so clear.

Cora screamed against his hand for all she was worth, kicking and struggling against his unusually strong hold. But it was futile. She could feel the life ebbing out of her with every passing second, and all of her hope too. Her kicks grew weaker, her screams quieter.

She was going to die. She was going to_ die_.

The next minute she would forever remember as a blur. Something slammed into her – someone? – and she was suddenly free. She fell to the ground in a heap, arms burning and probably bruised and her neck_ throbbing _in pain. Somebody sank to the ground beside her, a haze of purple, and pushed her hair back from her face.

"You're safe now, darling," she hushed, and though she struggled instinctively at the touch something told Cora she had nothing to fear from_ this _stranger.

She suddenly heard a familiar growl and, safe in her protector's arms, she looked up to look upon her attacker for the first time. She nearly screamed at what she saw.

His face was gnarled and sharp, utterly inhuman, the kind of face that existed only in nightmares or movies. Something glittered as he opened his mouth, struck by the light of the moon and, in the half-stunned state of mind she was in it took her a full minute to realise it was teeth. No, not teeth._ Fangs_. No wonder her neck hurt like hell.

Cora managed, somehow, god knows how, to drag her eyes from the creature to the woman who had hurtled in to her rescue. She stood in front of him, lithe and poised and clutching ... a piece of wood? tightly in her hand.

The woman smirked, and spoke in an accent Cora didn't recognise. "Are we going to dance 'round each other until sunrise or are you going to come 'ere and let me kick your bloody arse?"

Cora barely had time to process that before her assailant charged and—

And he was gone, in a shimmering cloud of dust, and she was all that was left, looking like Artemis herself in the moonlight.

"It looks like we got 'ere just in the nick of time," came another voice, and Cora's eyes jerked up, no longer frozen, to see another brunette, tall and beautiful but her eyes were hard as they examined Cora's crumpled body. The arm around her tightened, and she was suddenly on her feet besides the purple haze – an elegant redhead, dressed much more elaborately than Cora had expected from this odd little town.

She had so many questions, but one she wanted to ask most of all.

"Was he ... Was he a vampire?"

The laugh that met her question was decidedly shaky, and Cora felt more secure than ever in concluding that her attacker_ was_what she thought he was, regardless of even her own scepticism.

The brunette smirked. "A vampire? Don't be daft. Where do you think you are, Transylvania?"

But Cora refused to believe that, not after what she'd just seen and experienced. She persisted, weakly, still feeling decidedly shaken. "He had fangs, and—"

"You were frightened darling," the redhead interrupted. She patted Cora's shoulder indulgently. "I was mugged once too, it was _dreadful_—"

Cora had had enough of this. "He exploded! Into dust," she added sheepishly.

The redhead smiled innocently. "A trick of the light?"

"Oh come off it, Ros. She might be wandering the streets of Sunnydale in the middle of the bloody night, but she's clearly not_ that _stupid. Can't I just wipe 'er memory?"

Her memory? A furious debate seemed to be ignited by the question, but Cora barely registered the words. She was somewhat distracted by the almost certain confirmation that yes, she had just been attacked by a_ vampire _and would have been almost certainly killed, had these women not intervened and saved her life. And not only that, but the brunette wanted to_ wipe her memory_?

"No!"

All eyes fell on her and she fought the urge to blush at the scrutiny. She would not be intimidated; nobody was going to wipe Cora Crawley's memory without her expressed consent!

"I promise not to tell. You saved my life, after all."

The dark haired woman, the one who had wanted to wipe her memory, looked far from convinced, but the redhead seemed satisfied and suddenly far more interested in her breasts anyway.

"Yer not from around 'ere, are you?"

Cora started, turning her head to meet a pair of keenly intelligent eyes that belonged to_ her_, the woman who had rescued her and single-handled battled that thing. She looked decidedly unruffled by her own heroism, and Cora tried her hardest not to fidget as she raked her eyes critically over her.

Cora shook her head.

"I'm just passing through. My husband and I-" she scowled at the reminder, "-well, we had something of an argument over dinner, and it was either leave the restaurant or commit murder. I didn't expect to be attacked by a vampire. I've never been a fan of horror movies," she added sheepishly.

The redhead – Rose? – seemed to suddenly perk up and managed to drag her eyes from Cora's chest.

"Oh you_ poor _darling." Her smile was decidedly predatory. "What a dreadful brute your husband sounds! Men are fools, aren't they? I'm sure you'd just_ love _to get a little revenge."

She would actually – Robert deserved a thorough kick up the backside – and the redhead, squeezing Cora's shoulders supportively, seemed to realise that.

"It really only takes two simple words darling. I wish—"

"Rosamund!"

Cora jumped at the sound of her rescuer's voice, sharp and shrill and laced with warning. _Rosamund _seemed sufficiently chastised and the arm pulled back, and Cora felt curiously cold without it. She swayed, her legs like jelly, and might have crumpled back to the floor had Artemis' (it was better than nothing) arm not curled around her waist. Her skin tingled at the touch.

"You're off duty love."

She turned her gaze back to Cora, holding her firmly upright. "Where's yer 'usband now?"  
>Cora realised she truly didn't know where Robert was. Did she even remember where they'd left the car?<p>

Artemis seemed to sense her hesitation, and read easily into her silence. She softened her voice and tightened her arm around her. "Come on, love."

"What?" The look on the other woman's face – not Rosamund, she looked positively gleeful at her friend's implied suggestion – seemed to echo Cora's own surprise perfectly.

Artemis arched her eyebrow. "We're 'ardly going to let you wander the streets alone, are we?  
>And someone needs to tend to that wound."<p>

Wound? She lifted her hand to her neck and for the first time registered blood. It wasn't much, a scratch at best, but it was enough to make up Cora's mind.

"Are you sure? I don't want to impose."

"It's no imposition. We live nearby, an' there's plenty of room. You can take Vera's room."

The angry woman – Vera, she supposed – scoffed, and turned a blazing look on her friend. Her protests were quickly silenced.

"Don't try and pretend you use it; we all know you'd rather be in Ros' bed."

Cora arched her eyebrow at that, but neither Vera nor Rosamund seemed to want to deny it. At least the redhead's ogling made a little more sense now.

"I think that's enough patrolling for one night. Let's get our new friend 'ome."

Vera snorted, and Cora instinctively shrunk closer to her protector.

"You're the boss, Sarah."

Sarah.

Cora smiled to herself as_ Sarah _guided her gently from what little remained of what had almost been her end, Vera and Rosamund following behind them and chattering to one another. She had the feeling they were discussing her, but she found she didn't mind. She was alive and safe and suddenly – she glanced up at her rescuer – this odd little town seemed all the more interesting.


	2. Chapter 2

When she woke it was to the sound of furious whispering. Cora could hear three distinct voices nearby, but she was too dizzy to understand the words. For one long moment, she forgot where she was and what had happened to her, and sat up hurriedly as her breath escaped in a frightened squeak.

She was by her side immediately, a hand sliding on to her back and stroking to soothe her. Looking up and into her eyes, it all came flooding back.

"Sarah."

The woman smiled in response, soft and warm as she sat on the edge of the bed. She reached for one of her hands and Cora clutched back, glad for the warmth of her skin.

"That's right love, you're safe."

Her neck still stung. Cora brought her hand up to the point where teeth – fangs, god help her – had met flesh and felt material instead of skin, a makeshift bandage covering the unnatural wound. She looked back to Sarah gratefully.

"Thank you."

Sarah shook off the gratitude, as if saving lives was an everyday occurrence for her. Perhaps it was. The way she had handled the creature spoke of experience; goodness knows, she had hardly broken a sweat! Her companions, Rosamund and Vera, soon excusing themselves from the room, had not seemed particularly perturbed by the experience either, and Cora began to wonder if their presence on the streets of Sunnydale last night was the coincidence she had originally assumed it was.

"My pleasure. 'm not in the 'abit of allowin' people to get eaten by vampires."

"Vampires. So…it _was_-"

"Real?" She nodded. "You were lucky we came along when we did. You were almost 'is supper."

She wanted to thank her again, but Cora suspected she had heard it all before. She smiled instead, pushing herself up against the headboard. She had recovered some strength since the attack, but she still felt weak, as if she was missing a part of herself somehow..

"S'just the shock," Sarah said, as if reading her mind and Cora cast the other woman a suspicious look. With her friend speaking last night of memories and _wiping_ them, perhaps she _had_ read her thoughts – but that was impossible, wasn't it? But then again, she hadn't believed in vampires until last night.

"'e didn't suck out a part of your soul or anything, just a bit of blood," Sarah continued, helping her to sit and ensuring the bandage still sat securely on her neck. Her fingers ghosted over her flesh as they pressed against the tape; she felt a little more herself at the touch. "You'll be alright once you've 'ad some breakfast."

Her stomach rumbled at the words with matchless timing and Sarah snickered in response. Cora offered her an embarrassed smile, laying a hand on her offending tummy. "I think my stomach agrees."

Sarah smiled. "Carson'll be up in a minute. 'e's made up a tray with napkins an' everythin'. He likes things done the proper way but they never are with us lot around."

Cora liked the sound of this 'Carson', although she wasn't quite sure what to make of the idea of him, living amongst these three women. If Vera and Rosamund shared a bed, where did Carson sleep? Was he Sarah's husband? She felt curiously disappointed by the thought, until something else occurred to her.

Oh god. Robert.

"My husband," she breathed, pushing the duvet from her lap. She was in some kind of silky material, draped rather perilously over her shoulders which she somehow suspected, based on last night's ogling, was Rosamund's doing, but her state of undress registered little beyond that, engulfed by her panic.

"Where's Robert?"

Sarah reached for her arm, curling her fingers around it in a firm grip and gently pushed her back against the pillows. She handled her with curious sensitivity, touching her as if she were made of glass, but Cora supposed she'd do the same if Sarah, or anyone for that matter, had been attacked by the undead.

"'m sure 'e's fine love. 'e's probably tucked up in the 'otel room thinking what a noodle 'e's been, or 'e's out there now lookin' for you." She smiled faintly, letting go of her arm. "'e's probably worried sick, but safe. 'e's probably not daft enough to go wanderin' the streets of a strange town after dark."

Cora looked sheepish, but relaxed at Sarah's words. She was right; Robert certainly wasn't as impulsive at her – his mother called her the _barbarian_, after all – so he had most likely returned to the hotel room and waited for her to come back in a huff. But surely he had worried about her?

"We'll go out an' find 'im after breakfast." Sarah paused for a moment, narrowing her eyes in consideration. "'ave you got a name?" she asked.

She smiled softly, somewhat apologetically, feeling terribly rude for having not already introduced herself. But then again she had been through a rather traumatic experience, and had practically fallen into a coma the minute her head hit the pillow. When would she have had the time to introduce herself?

"Cora Crawley."

Sarah immediately pulled a face. "What kind of name is that?"

"It's American," Cora replied defensively, frowning at the woman sat beside her. "I'm American!"

It seemed absurd to her that she was defending her name and her heritage when they were _in_ America and Sarah was the one with the utterly out of place accent! It sounded vaguely familiar – and she found it rather charming – but couldn't place it. Her curiosity soon got the better of her.

"Where are you from?"

"Manchester."

Cora smiled. "New Hampshire?"

"Manchester _England_." Sarah smirked, as if Cora might be the stupidest person she'd ever met, and she blushed. She hadn't a clue why this woman's opinion of her was suddenly so important; she supposed it was something to do with Sarah saving her life, some sort of connection that could only spring up between rescuer and rescued.

"My husband and I live in England. I met him in New York, and followed him back to Yorkshire."

This time Sarah smirked, though it was tinged with something else that Cora couldn't quite decipher. She looked almost…disappointed. "You must love 'im to trade New York for Yorkshire. S'like movin' from Earth to Mars."

She smiled faintly. Blazing arguments they had, especially lately, but she _did_ love Robert. "I do…and it was. It's been an adjustment."

"And now you're back…"

"A vacation," Cora explained, fiddling with a loose thread on the cotton sheets. "Our girls are all grown up; Mary's married, Sybil's at University. We decided to see the world while we still can."

Sarah smiled. Did she have children of her own? Cora wondered, but supposed she mustn't if she spent her spare time fighting vampires. It was a rather dangerous hobby for a mother to have.

"Just the two kids?"

Edith! She always forgot about Edith.

"Three. Edith is a lovely girl but she hasn't had much luck in love like her sisters."

That was an understatement to say the least. Beyond an ill-advised romance with her father's business associate, poor Edith had had next to no attention at all.

Sarah was about to say something else, and Cora eagerly awaited the words, but she was interrupted by a knock on the door. Cora tightened the silk thing around her, grateful for the time Sarah gave her before she called out for whomever it was to enter.

It was a man; a tall man wearing something akin to a suit and carrying an elaborate tray rather beautifully in his arms, as if he had carried trays his entire life, though he looked a little put out to be doing it all. It seemed beneath his dignity somehow.

"Good morning, Miss. I trust you slept well?"

Was he their butler?

"Beautifully, thank you. I hope Vera didn't mind me using her bed."

Sarah snorted, shuffling aside to allow Carson in with the tray. Cora felt a small sting of disappointment at the distance now between them. It had been a huge comfort having another warm body by her side, with a beating heart and pulsing blood and nothing at all like that thing last night. And she rather liked Sarah's perfume.

"There isn't much Vera _doesn't _mind love, don't let 'er bother you. She's 'armless really; Rosamund too."

The man vaguely raised an eyebrow that had Cora wondering just how true that statement was.

"Carson, this is Cora."

Carson nodded in greeting. Far from the stud she had imagined when forming a picture of Sarah's possible husband in her head, Carson looked like a terribly nice yet terribly gruff teddy bear and Cora fought the urge to hug him there and then. She still felt uncomfortable knowing Vera lingered nearby – the woman didn't seem to like her very much at all – and Rosamund was nice enough and very, very kind, but the ogling had been a little unsettling, but she felt herself relax in Carson's gentle company.

"Welcome to Sunnydale, Cora. How would you like your tea?"

At the very least he _had_ been a butler, surely! He wasn't Sarah's husband, that much was obvious – at least there were no rings – and she felt some inexplicable relief at that. Perhaps he was her father? They looked nothing alike, but Cora supposed she could have been adopted. But still, it was rather odd for a woman's father to live with his long since grown up child and her two lesbian friends.

"She's American Carson, give 'er the coffee."

Carson sent a look in Sarah's direction, looking so utterly appalled at the suggestion that Cora felt the need to intervene, fast. Something told her that the challenging smirk on Sarah's face could only lead to trouble.

"No, tea would be lovely, thank you Carson."

Truthfully she _did_ want the coffee, but he looked so terribly disappointed by the idea that she was willing to indulge him. She didn't want to offend the poor man's obvious pride. How had so many English people come to gather under one roof in a small town in California anyway?

Looking awfully pleased, Carson poured her a cup of tea and placed in on the tray in front of her next to the variety of food that had Cora's hungry mouth watering.

"Let me know if you need anything else," Carson muttered before excusing himself, leaving Cora and Sarah alone again.

"Is Carson your butler, Sarah?" she asked curiously, the minute the door had closed and Sarah had reclaimed her seat on the edge of the bed.

Sarah laughed, a full-bodied laugh that had her shoulders shaking and her eyes sparkling bright. Cora hadn't thought her question to be particularly amusing at all, but she was strangely pleased at having made her laugh like that. As for Carson, Cora _still _couldn't fathom their relationship. She couldn't quite bring herself to believe they were _lovers_, although what did she know about Sarah's type? And she could see no resemblance to suggest they were at all related. But there was almost certainly affection there, and respect.

"No, though 'e might as well be the way 'e runs this 'ouse. 'e's my Watcher."

"Your _Watcher_?"

"'e…trains me, and keeps an eye on me. 'e 'elps me prepare."

"For what? You mean…to fight vampires?"

"Not just vampires." Sarah hesitated, and Cora worried that she'd said something terribly wrong. But she was utterly confused; not a single thing made sense in this strange new world she had somehow fallen into…besides her.

Sarah shook her head and made a move to stand. "I shouldn't be tellin' you this, you already know more than you should. I should 'ave 'ad Vera wipe your memory and put you in the 'otel like she wanted."

Cora quickly reached for Sarah's hand. She didn't want her memory wiped, ordeal or not; she couldn't bear the thought of wandering around with a piece of her missing, and without the memory of _her_. She clung tighter to her hand, gripping her fingers and intently meeting her eyes.

"But you didn't. You saved me and brought me here, and for whatever reason you want to tell me the truth. Sarah…Who are you?"

Sarah seemed to jump as their fingers entwined, looking down at their hands with a mixture of wonder and indecision, struggling with something clearly beyond Cora. But if she'd only let her in she could _help _her, or at least she could try. Cora already knew about vampires, she had very nearly lost her life to one, what else could there be? How bad could it possibly get?

She looked up finally, jaw clenched and resolute and Cora waited with bated breath until Sarah finally spoke three words she would remember forever, that would draw her into a whole new world and change her oblivious little life.

"'m the Slayer."


End file.
